Can't Get Enough
by Mrs. Witter
Summary: Ever wonder what the girls do when they get together? Nothing is sacred.
1. Prologue: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing. The characters all belong to the Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own Cyndi Lauper's _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ or Barry White's _Just Can't Get Enough Of Your Love_.

Rating: R - It's gonna get heated. It won't go to NC-17 but you've been warned.

Pairings: It's a surprise.

Dedication: Naters, Susie, Surya, Liza and Priya. God bless their gutter minds.

Author's Rambling's: Yes, I know. You're wondering: how does she do it? I honestly don't know. The idea for this fic has been driving me crazy so I wrote it. It's not going to be that long so just bear with me and enjoy.

Prologue: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 

_That's all they really want/some fun/when the working day is done  
girls - they want to have fun/oh girls just want to have fun_

Rory Gilmore tied the belt of her robe around her waist in her childhood room as the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of her first guest. She grinned broadly as she checked her appearance in the mirror and then rushed to the front door to answer it. She wrenched the door open in her excitement and squealed upon seeing the visitor, as if she'd seen her after years and not a couple of hours ago.

"You made it!" She grappled her oldest and dearest friend to her in a fierce hug. "This is going to be so much fun."

Lane Rygalski laughed as she hugged Rory back. "Jesus Rory! What did you do: drink all the champagne?" 

"I'm just happy," she replied as she dragged Lane further into the foyer. She clapped her hands together with glee. "This is going to be so much fun."

"Only you would be excited about a couple of twenty-six year olds meeting in Stars Hollow for a slumber party," a voice drawled from the door that Rory had forgotten to close again in her exhilaration. 

"Louise!" Rory showed her Chilton classmate the same enthusiasm as she pulled the bleach blonde into a hug. 

Louise, despite her earlier remark, returned the hug and smiled over the brunette's shoulder. "Hello Lorelai. Doctor." 

They headed into the Gilmore house too unload some groceries Louise had brought from her own home. Junk food was a more apt description. They chatted about a few of the current on-goings in Stars Hollow, filling each other in on gossip and the like.

A few moments later, someone was at the back door, an order accompanying the banging. "Gilmore, open this door!"

The three women looked at each other and sighed simultaneously, "Paris." 

Paris Gellar Mariano waddled into the kitchen, a trolley bag trailing behind her. She was, of course, scowling - and four and a half months pregnant. Rory kissed her cheek and then leaned down and reached for her belly. "Touch my stomach and die, Gilmore."

"Aw, please?" Rory pouted.

"You're so pathetic."

"But you love me anyway," the brunette replied and then addressed her friend's unborn child. "Looks like Mommy's in a bad mood. Did she fight with Daddy?"

"Men are bastards," she complained as she lowered herself into a chair at the table, not bothering to help with the preparations. "The lot of them." 

"You've noticed, huh?" Lane said as she ripped open a bag of potato chips and dumped them into a plastic bowl. 

"The trouble is," Louise stated as she popped a chip in her mouth and chewed. "God gave them a brain and a dick and only enough blood to run one at a time." 

"Amen," the other three echoed in unison. 

"Oh this is such a cliché. Us - pigging out on junk food and bitching and moaning about men - tell me again why we're doing this, Ror?" Lane criticized. 

"Because," Rory said filling up pink glasses with soda, "this maybe one of the few chances were all together for a couple of days at a stretch. With all of our busy schedules and the miles separating us, it was the only thing I could think of to get us here before we become jaded, miserable, old people."

"Sentimental fool," Paris muttered under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear. Rory grabbed a handful of popcorn out of the Smart Food bag and threw it at her. Her brows furrowed and she looked around the kitchen. "Aren't we missing someone?"

"Your pregnancy is clouding your perception, I see," Lane observed as she picked up the tray of chips and popcorn and headed to the living room; the other quickly followed suit.

"Maddie," Louise sighed in disdain, answering Paris question as she examined her nails. "She's probably lost."

The women opted to go change into the PJs while they waited for their last friend to arrive. They wandered through the house, yelling at each from rooms, taking advantage of the fact that it was empty and they weren't disrupting Lorelai who was spending the night at her parents with Christopher. The screaming and yelling reminded Rory of her youth spent in this house, shouting to her mother at the top of her lungs – and her mother yelling back louder. 

She hoped one day she would have a house full of shouting kids. Her gaze landed on the diamond ring on her finger and a soft smile curve her lips as she thought of the man who gave it to her, his blue eyes shining with love and pleasure as he slid it on. 

Fifteen minutes later, as they each found a spot in the living room that was comfortable for them, the women curled up watched as the front door flew open and a familiar figure came running in, her eyes wild and her raven hair a mess, a small duffel bag dangling from her shoulder. She opened her mouth and words gushed out. "Sorry I'm late. Boyfriend…me…kept me busy. Forgot about Monty. Brought movies. Ooh Lane, did you cut your hair. It's beautiful." 

After they joked about Madeline's forgetful ways, her insatiable sex life with Brad Langford and after she had changed into her own PJs, they settled down.

"So, it's been awhile since I've slept over," Lane started, smoothing out her plaid pajamas and tucked her hair behind her ear. "What exactly are we supposed to do?"

All eyes turned to the hostess, who shrugged. "Beats me."

"Well then…" Louise said as she laid down, barely wrinkling her lavender silk pajamas in the process. "I'm off to sleep." 

"Louise." Rory tugged at her arms. "Get up, Lou. I'll think of something."

Madeline smiled brightly. "We can watch movies."

"We can watch movies in a theatre," Paris pointed out.

"Food fight?" Lane said.

"Has to be spontaneous. Besides, Paris is too fat to move," Louise teased, causing said pregnant woman to hit her on the head with a pillow. "Ooh, I got it!"

"Share!" 

"Truth or dare," the blonde said, raising her perfect eyebrow. When she saw doubt etched on her friend's faces, she pleaded her case. "It's the ultimate girl game. Remember that episode of _90210_? I think it was in the first season. Wow, the nineties. Anyway, it was so much fun."

"Didn't Kelly end up telling the story of her horrible first time?" Rory stated. 

Louise dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "Not the point."

Madeline shrugged. "I'm game."

Reluctantly, everyone else agreed and Rory left to find an empty bottle, when she came back, everyone was sitting on the floor in a circle. She took her place in between Madeline and Paris and spun the bottle. 

It landed on Lane. 

"Ah, the good Dr. Rygalski." Louise clapped her hands in delight, and looked at Paris. "You wanna ask her a question, Gellar?" 

Paris gazed at Lane levelly. "Truth or dare?"

The brunette bit her lower lip. "Truth." 

Louise leaned in a whispered something in Paris' ear. "Well if you want to provide me with a question, why don't you just ask it?" she snapped. "Fine. How old were you when you lost your virginity?"  

Lane colored a bit but answered evenly. "Twenty."

"With Dave?" Louise asked intrigued.

"Ah-ah," Rory chided and reached for the bottle. "That's two questions, Forester."

The game started to wear thin when they ran out of juicy questions to ask and no one even considered a dare. Paris sighed and leaned back again the sofa ready to give up. "Any more wonderful ideas, Lou?" 

"Yes," she answered with a regal nod of her head. "With all these questions we're asking about love and sex, without really delving into the latter, I got the perfect thing to do."

"What's that?" Madeline asked intrigued, as she sipped her Coke. 

"Share our most intimate, most wildly passionate sexual encounters with our respective significant others. I'm talking every vivid detail, every whispered word, and every orgasm," she said with a saucy grin. "I want to know where, when, how and why."

"What?" Rory asked, her eyes bulging. "You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack."

"You sound like Jess," Paris muttered. 

"Speaking of whom," Louise said as she leaned forward. "There must be something you do in bed that made a man like Jess cater to your every whim and settle down. Spill sister." 

"No way," the woman protested as she shifted from her position on the floor. 

"If we can't share this with each other, who can we share it with?"

"Well, we obviously shared it with our men." Lane quipped.

"I think it'll be fun," Madeline finally said, chewing her bottom lip. "I've always wondered how the boys were in bed. This is the next best thing." 

"Well you and Brad sure have an interesting sex life," Rory pointed out with a grin, warming up to the idea as long as she didn't have to go first. There were quite a lot of encounters with Tristan she remembered vividly; it was going to be hard to choose. "Why don't you tell us about the best sex you've ever had with Brad. We're all just as curious about Langford's, uh, sexual prowress." 

Madeline looked at the others who nodded. She clapped happily and leaned back against the couch, making herself comfortable. She grinned widely and addressed her friends and sighed dreamily. "All right girls, close your eyes. It's gonna be a bumpy ride. Literally." 

To Be Continued…


	2. Madeline & Brad: All That Jazz

Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing. The characters all belong to the Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own _All That Jazz_ from the _Chicago_ soundtrack or Barry White's _Just Can't Get Enough Of Your Love_.

Rating: R - It's gonna get heated. It won't go to NC-17 but you've been warned.

Pairings: Madeline/Brad, Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, Louise/Dean & Rory/Tristan.

Dedication: Naters, Susie, Surya, Liza, Sweet and Priya. Bless their gutter minds.

Madeline & Brad: All That Jazz 

_Find a flask/We're playing fast and loose/And all that jazz! /__Right up here i__s where I store the juice/And all that jazz! _

Brad and I had only been dating for a couple of weeks; after all we hadn't seen each other since high school when I ripped my picture out of his yearbook. The poor guy, I think me, Paris and Louise kind of traumatized him for life or something. 

It was the opening night of our production of Chicago and we were both nervous and excited. Well, he was nervous and I was excited. So excited, I decided to visit him in the dressing room before the show.

Of course, all I was wearing was my robe and my Velma Kelly wig. 

"Hi sweetie," I greeted him cheerfully as I locked the door to the dressing room behind me. "Are you nervous?"

"Madeline!" he almost squeaked. "What are you doing in here?" 

Men are so dense. But he looked awfully cute in those suspenders they had him wearing for the part of Amos Hart. Too bad he wouldn't be in them long. I slithered over to him and smiled brightly. "I came to help you relax."

His eyes widened in surprise as I ran my fingers under the elastic of his suspenders and looked at him through lowered lashes. He grabbed my hands and started to usher me out of the dressing room. "Maddie, you have to leave. The show starts in twenty-five minutes."

I smiled and pushed him back inside. "Plenty of time."

"Madeline… " He started to protest as I slowly back him into his chair. 

I undid the belt to my robe and let it fall to the floor. I love the way his eyes completely lose focus when I'm naked around him. I stepped closer and grab his face in my hands. "You know, it's a pity that Velma never sleeps with Amos." 

"W-well," he stuttered as I lowered my mouth to his. "It would be kind of hard with her being in jail and all." 

"Hmm," I murmured against his lips. "Good thing there's nothing in our way."

At that moment, I knew he had stopped caring about where we were and what we were really supposed to be doing. His hands slowly, almost experimentally, trailed up my thighs, stopping at the sensitive spot behind my knees. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, as the sensation swamped through me. Almost immediately, his lips replaced his hands and he was trailing pepper kisses on the sensitive flesh. 

Then, he switched techniques.

His teeth started to nibble on my inner thigh. I bit my lip to keep from moaning too loudly but gasped when his tongue shot out to smooth over the skin. Up, so close and then back down to my knee.

I needed release and I needed it fast and I knew he was purposely taking it slow and deliberately making it so that I was so close to edge that I shook for it. 

My hands dug into his hair, reveling in the softness of it while he continued to torment me and we had barely begun. That's the thing about Brad; you wouldn't think that he knows how to please a woman…especially if you knew him in high school. He's not very sociable but that's okay – I like him better in private. He's not a sophisticated playerbut he knows exactly what I want. He may not be smooth and debonair but he's got great hands. He may not look like a sex fiend but…well; let's just say he's definitely the best sex I've ever had.

Unable to stand the torture and desperately wanting to be kissed, I pulled him to a standing position and he easily complied, bringing his mouth crashing down on mine. The kiss was hot and violent. His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me closer as he practically devoured my mouth. 

I knew we didn't have a lot of time for foreplay and I realized that he was still in his costume. I broke the kiss and pulled back, grinning widely. "You, Mr. Langford, are very much too over-dressed."

"Mm," he mumbled incoherently, burying his face in my fake hair. "I want to feel _your_ hair."

I popped open the first two buttons of his shirt and kissed the exposed skin. "Don't take it off. It's a hassle to put on again."

He kissed my ear lobe and whispered sincerely, "I want to be with Madeline, not Velma." 

I shuddered deliciously at the way he said those words and it was at that moment, I knew that I loved him. Pulling away from him again, I searched his face to see how truthful he was being. He smiled and slowly tugged the wig away, letting it drop to the floor with my robe. "You're beautiful."

I know it's cheesy, overdone and Lord knows how many times I had heard that line before from guys who didn't mean it enough to stick around after they finished screwing me…it wasn't what he said but the look on his face when he said it.

In his arms, for the first time in my life, I _felt _beautiful. 

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I teased and I undid more buttons and then helped him out of the shirt and suspenders. 

He laughed and kissed me on the lips again. "How'd I get so lucky?" 

I swear, my heart stopped beating for a second and I stopped trying to disrobe him, looking him straight in the eyes. The heat between us radiated in the small room. "You're going to have to stop stuff like that to me, Langford." 

He tightened his grip on my waist and pulled me closed, so I could feel the telltale sign of his arousal. "Why not?"

"Because," I replied, kissing his Adam's apple. "We don't have time to make love. Only hot," he kissed my neck, "animal," scraped his teeth across my skin, "sex."

He nodded earnestly, his breath coming out in short puffs. "I can do that." 

"Good." I brought my lips back to his as he quickly turned us and back me up against his dressing table, knocking various accessories to the ground. 

The feel of the encounter shifted, swiftly. It went from fun and hot to urgent, scorching and passionate. His kisses were hard and demanding, hands were all over my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I quickly undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. Once his boxers were off, he hiked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. We tripped, stumbled and fell and then ended up on the small Persian run on his dressing room floor. 

In a surprise move, he quickly trapped both of my wrists in his hands as he hovered above me, locking me under him. 

I looked up at him and grinned. "And to think that you were against this."

He let out a ragged chuckle. "What was I thinking? This is much better than naming all the elements on the periodic table."

"You do that?" I asked, brows furrowing as his mouth attached to my breast. "And more importantly, you remember?"

"I was a dork in high school," he mumbled against my skin.

I giggled. "Sweetie, you're still a dork." 

His grip tightened on my wrists and he trailed his lips up my neck. "Yeah but now I'm a dork with a hot girl under me." ****

I kissed the corner of his mouth and arched into him. "Very true. Now shut up and take me."

"Yes ma'am," he replied and just as quickly, the tempo changed again. His movements were fluid but urgent and I responded with equal passion. Then, before I had time to react, he was inside me and we were moving together, completely in sync.

Fifteen minutes later, we were sprawled on the floor Brad still on top of me, trying to get the feeling back in our bodies. There was sharp knock on the door, followed by the familiar voice of our eccentric director. 

"Lynn! Langford! I know you're in there! You're on in ten and Lynn if you're not in your dressing room in 2.3 seconds I will have your hide and make sure that the two of you never act again!" 

Brad scramble to his feet and searched frantically for his costume. "Oh God!"

"Well," I purred and lazily pulled on my robe. "Andrews sure knew how to suck out the pleasure of post-coital." 

"Madeline, go, get out of here!"

I grabbed my wig and pouted. "Is that what you have to say after that?"

"You heard Andrews!"

"Andrews is a sour-puss who probably hasn't gotten laid in fifty years."

He stopped getting dressed, grinned and gave me an absent kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you after the show."

I sighed dramatically, tied the belt to my robe and walked to the door. "Oh and Brad?"

"Yeah?"

"Break a leg."

~*~ 

Madeline opened her eyes and stared at the grinning and slightly flushed faces of her friends. She grinned and sat up slightly, propping herself against the pillows and waiting for their reaction.

"Well," Louise said with a Cheshire grin. "That was definitely a wonderful way to wish someone good luck." 

"I thought so," Madeline agreed. "What do you think, Rory?"

The brunette pretended to ponder and then nodded. "I think Langford has staying power."

She giggled and stretched languidly. "I'm _telling_ you, he has staying power. That night, after the play we went back to his apartment and screwed each other's brains out." 

"Oh, I'll bet." Lane was grinning as she reached for her soda and took a long, refreshing gulp. She needed to after what she had just heard. 

"Paris, you're awfully quiet."

"I'm still trying to make sure I just heard a story about you and Brad Langford doing the forbidden tango, if you will."

"Oh, you heard it alright."

Paris' jaw settled. "I thought so."

Madeline clapped her hands lightly and sat up fully. "Now, it's your turn."

"What?" Paris asked, eyes wide. "No. No way!"

"I get to pick since I shared," Madeline stated authoritatively. "And Louise's question has me intrigued. What is it you do so well, Paris that Jess just had to marry you."

"Are you saying that Jess married me because I'm good in bed?" 

Rory shot Madeline a look and then put a hand on Paris' shoulder. "Calm down, Par. She was just teasing you. We're all just curious."

Lane nodded eagerly. "Come on, Par, it'll be fun."

Paris pursed her lips. "I don't know if I can."

"Just close you eyes and think of that time all over again in you mind," Louise ordered, her voice low. "Imagine you went back in time and it's happened all over again. Forget that we're here and we're listening."

Tentatively, Paris closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the sofa. "This is ridiculous."

"No, it's not. Come on, tell us."

"Fine, I will. It was about four and a half months ago and it was a Sunday. Jess and I were both home and it was an extremely humid day so by the time it was twelve in the afternoon, I needed to take a shower…"


	3. Paris & Jess: Wonderland

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters. They belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own Barry White's _Can't Get Enough of Your Love_ or John Mayer's _Your Body Is A Wonderland_.

**Rating**: R

**Pairings**: Madeline/Brad, Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, Louise/Dean & Rory/Tristan.

**Dedication: **To Susie, my wonderful beta. To Nate one of the biggest Dippers out there. To Laine, for her inspiring fic _By The Book and therefore, she gets a Rory/Dave shout out._

**Paris & Jess: Wonderland**

Damn baby/You frustrate me/I know you're mine, all mine, all mine/But you look so good it hurts sometimes/ Your body is a wonderland/Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands)

-- John Mayer

It was one of those summer days when the air was thick and stilled, not even stirring the leaves on the trees. It was too hot to sit outside and enjoy lemonade and our air conditioner had picked that exact day to go kaput. Jess had set up a couple of portable fans around the house but even that didn't prevent my clothes from sticking to my body like second skin. I was grateful that someone had suggested that I get a haircut before the heat wave hit us and my shoulder length hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun, keeping it away from my neck. 

On top of it being the hottest day of the year, Renee had picked that exact date to invite me to lunch, 'to touch base' as she so snottily put it. I had spent two hours sitting in a steamy downtown hotspot, listening to my mother blather on and on as we ate lunch. Oh it was the same old shit: Jess isn't right for you. You should be starting a family not supporting a man who freelanced for newspapers.

Of course, it didn't help that I was wearing a tank top and a sad excuse for a skirt and the bra strap beneath was driving Miss Prim & Proper batty.

"How was lunch with the Dragon Lady?" Jess called from the kitchen as I dropped the keys on the table in the foyer. 

"Which part do you want to hear first? When she told me what kind a man you were or when she asked me to cross my legs so some pervert wouldn't look up my skirt?" I asked rhetorically as I trudged to the stairs. He grunted something unintelligible and I knew he was only pretending to be interested about my lunch. "I'm going to go lie down for a bit." 

Once I was upstairs, I fell down on our bed and closed my eyes, hoping that Renee had bugged me to the point of exhaustion so I could fall asleep and ride out the heat wave. It just wasn't my day. Sleep was elusive and I rolled off the bed again, deciding to take a cold shower and wash away the reminders of lunch with Renee. 

In the bathroom, I was pulling out a clean towel from the closet when Jess walked in, a roll of masking tape in his hand and sour expression on his face. "Hey Par, where'd you put the scissors?" 

"Uh, top drawer on the left," I answered turning around. While he fumbled for the scissors, I stripped down to my lingerie. "What are you doing?"

He pulled the scissors out of the drawer and turned around with a triumphant grin that immediately faltered when he gave me a once over. "Huh? Oh, I don't remember. Are you taking a shower?" 

"Yeah, this weather is ridiculous," I replied as I pulled various toiletries out of the drawer under the sink. I pulled my hair into a bun and pinned it up and away from my neck with a butterfly clip. "Why?" 

He came to stand behind me and wrapped one arm around my waist and rested his head in the junction between my shoulder and neck. "I was just wondering if you'd like some help. I've been known for my capable hands." 

My laugh turned into a soft moan as his hands came up my stomach and his lips nuzzled my neck. "Jess, I'm taking a bath to _cool_ down."

"Oh." His lips trailed up the column of neck while his hands gently cupped my breasts, causing me to shiver deliciously. I could feel him smirking against my skin. Slowly, his hands came around to my back and up between my shoulder blade. Teasingly, he slid one finger underneath the clasp of my bra. "Just tell me to stop, Par." 

Of course, by then, my body was already humming in anticipation. Sighing, I closed my eyes no longer fighting to keep my lust in check. "Jerk." 

He laughed, his warm breath tickling my nape as he skillfully undid the clasp, sending my bra to the floor. His hands came back around to my torso. His lips returned to the spot on my neck and he started to nibble his way to my ear. His tongue lightly flicked my earlobe – something he knew drove me crazy, before he pulled me to him so I could feel the telltale sign on his arousal pressing up against me. 

"Open your eyes, Par," he commanded gently as his hands came slowly, torturously back to my breasts. I ignored him and moaned loudly as he continued the assault with his hands. I threw my head back in delight when he pinched down on them, hard. "Come on, baby. Open your eyes." 

I settled against him and then whimpered in protest when he took his hands away. "What? Why are you stopping?"

He kissed my neck. "Because you won't open your eyes."

"Fine," I snapped and opened them, staring at our reflection in the mirror. "Happy now?"

"Very," he answered and then brought his hands up to my shoulder, gently massaging them. I watched as he slowly brought his hands around again and skimmed them over the side of my breasts. 

I shivered, craning my neck to the side so that his lips would have better access. 

Our sex life is…creative. But we had never stood in front of a mirror before and at first, I thought it was a little freaky, but then as I watched his hands caress my skin it was kind of erotic. I watched, a little mesmerized, at the way his hands skimmed over my skin. His fingers were callused against my damp skin. They swept slowly over my torso, stopping at my belly button to tickle me, before traveling upwards to the valley between my breasts. 

Once, twice, three times. Up and down; pausing only briefly to graze his fingernails over my nipples. 

I shuddered, letting out a small moan. I turned my face towards his and captured his lips in a kiss, desperate to do something to take things faster. But even then, he was slow and thorough, teasing my lips with his tongue before breaking away from the kiss. Then, he started to place tiny kisses all over my face. Cheeks, nose, chin, jaw line.

I stood there, in front of the mirror with my husband's hands all over me, while my arms remained limply at my side, not knowing what to do with them. His lips returned to my neck, sucking and nipping while I whimpered, completely helpless.

Then, suddenly he stopped all activity. His fingers stopped at the waistband of my panties and he lifted his lustful gaze and met my dazed one in the mirror. "You okay?"

I drew in a shallow breath. "Yeah." 

He nodded and slowly slipped my panties over my hips, past my rear and the jerked them slightly, so the pooled at my ankles. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to stand on my own feet if he started touching me _there while I watched in the mirror, I turned to him fully. Intent to take the control back. _

He must have anticipated this, because his arms came around my waist and his lips sought mine before I could kiss him. 

Demanding. 

That was really the only word in the English language that could describe the kiss. I always hated how romance novels use phrases like 'he plundered her mouth' but that's exactly what it felt like when Jess kissed me then.

Any modicum of control that I had left snapped and the torment was over. I kissed back this time, just as hungrily, just as passionately. He groaned this time; from somewhere deep in his throat and I pushed him back, towards the shower.

"I believe," I gasped out as we broke free for the kiss. "You offered to help me shower. And you, husband, are wearing too many clothes for that." 

He smirked and lifted his hands up so I could divest him of his thin, grey tee. We kissed again and stumbled back into the shower stall as my fingers worked quickly with his belt. Impatient, I tore my lips away from his and sighed, irritated. "Who wears jeans on the hottest day of the year?"

"I couldn't find anything else," he responded, kissing my ear.

"If you'd actually wash your clothes, maybe they wouldn't be lying in the hamper," I snapped back and unzipped his jeans before tugging them off. "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, Mariano -"

He cut me off with his lips again and then, quickly lost his pants. Before I had time to get settled in his arms, he reached behind him and turned on the knob…to the cold side. I yelped as the water hit me and then looked up at him, glaring. His expression was that of absolute innocence. "What? You said you wanted to cool down." 

Grinning, I reached behind him and turned it back towards 'hot'. "Yeah but the cold water might just, um," I glanced down between us at a certain part of his anatomy, "dampen the mood."

It was his turn to laugh as he slid his wet hands through my hair and down my back. When we kissed, it was playful and teasing. He reached for the shampoo behind me and squirted some out in his hands. His sudsy fingers dug into my hair, gently as he massaged the shampoo in, while he kissed the side of my face, the column of my neck. 

"That feels nice."

"Good," he murmured against my skin. "I expect you to return the favor."

I kissed his earlobe. "I thought we were pampering me today."

His fingers slid from my hair to my neck as he pulled away. "Well, there's no reason for me to get all wet if I'm not going to get clean, is there?"

I arched and eyebrow; leaned in to kiss his collarbone. "You smell pretty clean to me."

He chuckled and then, leaned down to capture my lips with his own. This time, the kiss was playful and teasing, as his soapy hands slid down my back and rested on my hips. I turned slightly, to reach for his shampoo and quickly worked up lather in his hair, both of us laughing like little children as our hands slipped and glided over each other skin.

Before I knew it, hands were everywhere and the playfulness passed, replaced with passion. He had me against the tile wall, my legs wrapped around his waist as he slowly entered me. 

"I think the day took a turn for the better," I stated, breathing shallow.

"Glad to be of service," he grunted out with what seemed like a smile, as we started moving together in the pace he set for us. 

I climaxed and he came shortly after, both of us panting as we rested our foreheads against one another's. Slowly, my legs slid back down to the ground as the water washed off the remaining soap from our bodies.

We stayed like that, not kissing or anything, just embracing as the water sprayed on us. "So, with all this nonsense the Dragon Lady is putting in your head…you're happy you married me?"

"Jess," I replied, twining my arms around his neck. "I never doubted it."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Cheeks flushed and a hand on her stomach, Paris opened her eyes and grinned at her closest friends. "Three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant."

After a momentary pause, Rory let out an almost dreamy sigh. "That was good."

"Delicious," Madeline agreed, giggling as she stretched.

"Shower sex," Louise commented with saucy grin. "I'm so proud." 

"Good thing the baby can't hear right now," Lane piped up, running a hand through her hair and feeling very hot. "I don't think any child should hear about how they were conceived." 

"Speaking of the act required to conceive a child," Paris stated, reaching over to the coffee table to grab her can of Coke. She let her gaze hold Lane's levelly even though there was a wicked smile on her lips. "How exactly is Dave in that respect, Dr. Rygalski?"

"No!" Lane protested quickly, as everyone laughed. "Pick someone else!"

"Uh-uh, honey," Louise drawled in a Southern accent. "I believe she picked you. Come on, doc, we want details." 

"Dave is yummy," Rory added, with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "I've always wondered…"

"Excuse me?" her oldest friend asked, brow arched primly. 

"What?" Rory asked innocently. "He is! And it's harmless to wonder!"

"There are too many! I need to think about it," Lane sighed.

Madeline grinned. "Good, you think while I go to the bathroom." After everyone had freshened up again, the girls sat down to listen to Lane's story. "So, did you pick one?"

The brunette bit her bottom lip. "Yeah. Okay, well, Dave and I were fighting a lot-"

"Ooh, anger sex!" Louise piped up.

"Do you wanna hear this or not?"

"Sorry, please continue."

"Well, we were back in Stars Hollow for Thanksgiving two years ago…"


	4. Lane & Dave: Falling Into You

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters. They belong to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own Barry White's _Can't Get Enough of Your Love_ or Anggun's _On The Breath Of An Angel_.

**Rating**: R

**Pairings**: Madeline/Brad, Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, Louise/Dean & Rory/Tristan.

**Dedication: **To Susie, my wonderful beta. To Surya for being my alternative-beta and not pushing for other smut goodness. To Reeka for writing wonderful Lane-ness. To everyone whoever asked me when I was going to get this part up – sorry it took so long.

**Special dedication**: To one of the best characters on TV, Seth Cohen. He deserves all the shout outs in the world!

**Suggestion**: You should probably download or listen to his song while reading this part – makes it fun. 

**Lane & Dave: Falling Into You**

_I can hear every word/I see everywhere/Take me into your world/you can answer my prayers/Rivers of hours/where time is so rare/Hold me forever/Say you'll always be there._

- Anggun, "On the Breath of an Angel"

We were back in Stars Hollow for Thanksgiving two years ago, it had only been a year since we were married and things were a little tense between us. The honeymoon period was over (although for us, it lasted for so long so we're lucky like that). Dave was teaching extra classes at the high school and I was pretty busy with my residency. For the first time, I stepped back a little and realized that married life was not all that it's cut out to be. There's no getting around some stuff; you just deal with it or it builds up and before you know it – catastrophe. 

Unfortunately, Dave and I let it build up.

We were fighting about the little things.  He never unplugs his amp after rehearsal and he rarely helps out in the kitchen after dinner claiming he has papers to grade.  He _never lowers the toilet seat and there is always some mess that I have to clean up once I get home.  Little things like that.  But to be fair, I was constantly nagging him about it._

"You're never home!" he muttered once, under his breath. "It's not like it gets in your way."

It was so classic; I can't believe I didn't see it coming.  For the first time I was actually looking forward to going home.  Seeing my mother and spending Thanksgiving with her, with Lorelai and Rory, that was familiar, even comforting.  The rut so soon into my marriage wasn't, and it scared me.   

Anyway, we made it to Stars Hollow without killing each other and spent most of the holiday locked in conversation with other people so we wouldn't have to spend too much time in each other's presence. We had made up the night before because I knew that Mama Kim, the hawk that she is, would know instantly if something was wrong. But we both knew it was a half-hearted attempt and the issues were still there, simmering under the surface.

"Yes Mama," Dave yelled to her as he came into my childhood bedroom, after Thanksgiving dinner. "I made sure all the tofu was sealed and no, Lorelai didn't throw it all away." I smiled at that. My first real smile in what seemed like a long time; I couldn't help it. "What's funny?"

He asked it so softly, so timidly, I almost didn't hear it. I looked at him over my shoulder and shrugged. "Some things never change." 

"Some things aren't supposed to." 

I nodded slightly, felt him come up behind me and controlled the urge to just turn around and bury my face in his neck and forget about everything that had happened. There were issues we needed to deal with and ignoring them hadn't been working. He stood there for what seemed like forever before lowering himself onto the foot of the bed. Gently, he tugged at my hand and urged me to turn around. 

I did and managed a wavering smile. "Hey."

"You've been avoiding me," he said as I lowered myself on the bed beside him. "Or at least you've made sure we haven't had any time alone since we got home." 

"So you noticed, huh?" I let out a light scoff. "Mama was watching me all evening. She only gets sneakier with age. Everywhere I turned; there she was, asking how I was. 'David seems tired. Lane, are you taking care of him?' or 'Something is wrong. Tell me' or 'David is not eating his tofu'."

He swallowed guiltily. "She saw that?" 

"Everything," I replied with a heavy sigh and rested my head on his shoulder. "She knows. About there being something off between us." His ran his hand up my spine, lightly, causing me to shiver despite the tension in my words. "It's obvious with the way we're avoiding each other."

He kissed the side of my face. "I thought we were past it." 

I turned my face to him, fully. "Are we?" 

"I am." He smiled a little, his dimples deepening as he brushed his lips against mine. It had been weeks since we had properly kissed and even longer since we made love. The familiar feel of his lips on mine seemed to make my body wake up all of a sudden, tingling. My hands slowly slipped up his chest. "Are you?"

"Yes," I breathed out, opening my eyes as his lips left mine. "Completely."

"Good," he whispered back and kissed me again. This time, he brought one hand to my waist and pulled me closer, urging me onto his lap. Sighing happily, I complied letting my sex-starved body take over as I straddled him and his tongue sought entrance into my mouth. He pulled away so we could breathe. "I locked the door." 

"Good thinking," I said, tangling my hands in that mess of curls he calls hair. I giggled a little nervously, like I was a teenager doing something forbidden. Which in way, since we were under the same roof as Mama Kim, I was. "We have to be quiet."

He laughed, kissing the skin underneath my collarbone. "We will be if you keep the moaning to a minimum."

"And if you don't stumble in your haste," I shot back sweetly.

"Ooh, burn," he joked back and then, in a stealthy move, turned us over and had me pinned under him. "Smooth enough for you, Mrs. Rygalski?" 

"Oh very smooth," I agreed, sliding my hand up and over his shoulders. "What else do you have up your sleeve?"

He pretended to think for a minute as his hands traveled down the side of my body. I sighed and arched my body against his, wrapping my legs around his waist. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. "I was thinking a little bit of this." He nipped my lower lip before trailing his tongue across it and murmuring, "and this." 

Then I just let myself go. It was so great to have passion without any regret or residual anger weighing us down, this was familiar. And what made it better was the fact that I was on my childhood bed, writhing under my husband, definitely wanting to do more. Sixteen year old, hell, twenty year old Lane Kim would never even think about having sex in her bedroom with Mama Kim so close by.

But twenty-four year old Lane Kim was a liberated woman, a married woman and she would have sex whenever she pleased, wherever she pleased. 

Dave's hands slipped down and under my skirt, the material slowly riding up my legs. His hands caressed my skin as our mouths remained fused together, pouring out all the pent up frustration and residual anger into the kiss, making it hotter than I've ever experienced. Meanwhile, my own hands slipped up behind his back and under his shirt, tracing over the smooth skin and lean muscles. 

As his lips broke away from mine and started to trail kisses down the column of my neck, I sighed contentedly. "This is nice."

"Just nice," he murmured against my skin. "I must be losing my touch." 

"No," I laughed and slipped the material up his back, pooling it at his neck. He lifted his head and let me pull it off. "I meant it's nice to get back into this. It's been awhile."

He grinned as he threw the T-shirt carelessly behind him and started to divest me of my own shirt. "Yes, it has been. I've missed being able to touch you, smell your skin. To listen to you moan when I run my fingers a certain way over you." To demonstrate, he let his fingers trail feather-light over my nipples through the thin material of my bra, making me gasp out his name. "Say that again."

"Do that again," I replied thickly. And he did but this time, he brought his mouth over the fabric and sucked. "_Dave!"_

In response his tongue darted under the fabric. I arched under him, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist as he reached under me to unclasp my bra. We disentangled me from it, fumbling a little in our haste and then giggling like little children as we bumped heads trying to rid each other of our remaining clothing. 

He pulled back the covers on my bed and we slipped under, hands smoothing over each other's skin, lips fused together. 

Fire ran wildly up and down my skin, centering in my very core. His lips trailed down, stopping to lick a sensitive spot near my collarbone and I giggled throatily but then stopped abruptly when his hands worked their way down between my legs, trailing up and down my inner thighs, very softly and very slowly.

I moaned something incomprehensible, even to me, and he continued the sweet torment, not picking up the pace – even as I arched into him. 

I understood what he was trying to do so when he brought his lips back to mine, instead of meeting his tongue passionately; I surrendered completely and let him explore my mouth. He broke away again, letting me catch my breath – which came out in short, uneven gasps - and started to place, feather-light kisses on my jaw and neck. 

I shuddered in his arms, just clinging to him and letting him set the pace. I was surrendering myself, offering – letting him worship me with his lips and hands.

I moaned softly as he continued to explore my body with his hands. His kisses were gentle, soft caresses, light teases, and whispers of pressure against my lips and heated skin. Meanwhile my fingers trailed slowly and leisurely over his skin and I placed soft kisses on his shoulders and neck. This passionate embrace was different from our usual lovemaking, which was always fulfilling but never so…right. Right then, our lovemaking had taken the gentler route – lazy, teasing, and thorough - so that every sense was heightened and every part of our bodies were heated and aroused.

As silly as it sounds, I was having a hard time trying to make sense of anything else but the feeling of his body pressing mine into the firm mattress, of his lips on mine, his skin slicked with sweat – heat against heat.

I was having a hard time telling where I ended and he started.

It was like I was attuned to every sense, every sound in the room. The sound of his shallow breathing. The soft, almost reverent way he whispered my name. The low groan that tore from his throat when I bucked under his seeking fingers; riding out my first orgasm.

As I came out of my haze, I was very aware of his need, pressing up against my thigh. Wordlessly, I shifted under him and brought my mouth to his, this time, kissing him thoroughly – taking control. 

I pushed up on elbows, feeling a little daring and pushed him back to his side of the bed so this time, was on top of him. I kissed a trail down his chest, pausing briefly to give special attention to his torso. He groaned softly, "Lane…"

Instinct kicked in and I straddled his legs, hovering over him as my hair fell like a curtain around my face, tickling him. He laughed; a strained, strangled sound. I drowned it out with my mouth.

I pulled away and watched, reveling in my power as his strained to keep himself in check and let me take over. I lifted his hands to my face, kissing the fingertips lightly before I leaned back on his knees.

His eyes fluttered open and locked with mine, our hands twined together.

Smiling a little shyly, I slowly lowered myself onto him. Some primal part of me – the part that wasn't exploding with exquisite sensations – crowed in glory at the look of pure ecstasy on his face. We started to move together as his hands left mine and grasped my hips and I weren't so busy trying to get us both to release, I would have giggled at the things he was half-mumbling and half-moaning.

"Oh my God," he croaked out as I collapsed onto of him, pleasantly spent. "Lane, sweetheart, that was…wow." 

I laughed lazily, too tired to move from my position. "You weren't too bad yourself, David."

He traced soothing circles on my back and kissed the top of my head, just as the sunset outside. "If I haven't said this before, I'm saying it now: Thanksgiving _rocks_." 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Lane hadn't realized that her eyes were closed until she finished telling the tale and when she opened them, she felt her self blush ten shades of red. 

Paris and Rory looked like they had just watched a soft-porn movie and were kind of embarrassed that they were turned on. Madeline was grinning like an idiot and Louise was, of course, smirking and sent Lane a 'I'm very impressed and oddly proud of you' look. 

"That was," Rory started after a minute of silence. "I think…wow." 

"My sentiments exactly," Paris agreed. "I can never look at Dave the same way but…wow, pretty much sums it up." 

"Dave was right," Louise grinned and reached for her soda. "Thanksgiving _did _rock."

Madeline giggled. "Next time I see Dave, I think I'm going to have to give him a nice long hug for taking care of our Lane so splendidly." 

"Okay, okay," Lane said, sitting up straighter. "Now we only have Louise and Rory left. And since I get to choose…hmm, let me think…Now, Tristan's prowess is quite legendary" – she stopped to look at Rory apologetically – "and we've never really heard anything about good, dependable Dean." 

Louise smiled wickedly, crossing her legs. "Well, good isn't a word I think you should associate with Dean, anymore."

Rory snorted. "Oh I'm sure you've taken care of that, Forester. I'm just glad you made an honest man out of him."

As the other girls giggled, Louise simply shrugged. 

"You better believe it, baby. Now let me tell you how it all started. The corruption of Dean Forester was a very, how shall I put this, trying process." She paused for a cheeky grin. "I think it was our fourth or fifth date. Dean had been teasing me about how I'm a spoiled princess…" 


	5. Louise & Dean: With My Breath, Juliet

Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing. The characters all belong to the Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own Vanessa Daou's _Juliet_ or Barry White's _Just Can't Get Enough Of__ Your Love_.

Rating: R - It's gonna get heated. It won't go to NC-17 but you've been warned.

Pairings: Madeline/Brad, Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, Louise/Dean, Rory/Tristan

Dedication: To Stef for writing WTF smut. You're a brave woman. And to Roxy on her birthday!

**Louise & Dean: With My Breath, Juliet**

_But tonight, your hair is falling just right/your lips are glistening in light/you're wet between the thighs, Juliet/I'll take my chances/If words have wings, let them take to flight/with my breath, Juliet._

-- Vanessa Daou, "Juliet"

It was our fourth or fifth date and Dean was teasing me about being a spoiled princess because, horror of horrors, I absolutely refused to learn how to cook. When I argued with him that he was being a sexist asshole, he countered that he did know how to cook and the only reason I didn't wasn't because I was being a feminist, it was because I always depended on someone else to do it for me.

Cornered by truth, I took his mocking as a challenge and invited him over for dinner. At first, the jerk thought I was joking but I told him that I would make it worth his while. In more ways than one.

"Alright," he said over the phone. "Do you want me to bring something? Like firemen? Just in case you burn your loft down? "

"Keep mocking me, Forester and I swear, you'll regret it," I growled as I started unpacking the groceries I had bought for my little challenge. "Your chances of getting laid are already pretty slim."

"Ouch, right for the jugular," he said with a laugh. "So I'll see you around seven?"

I looked at my watch. 5:00. Jesus Christ, how the hell was I going to manage? "Not a minute later."

After I hung up, I unplugged the phone, turned off my cell and turned on the radio to help me get in the mood. Something loud and upbeat. I opened the cookbook I swiped near the checkout counter entitled _Healthy Homestyle Meals_ and let out a gleeful chuckle. He was going to eat his words if it was the last thing I did.

It took me ten minutes to get everything I needed together and find the cookware my mother had sent over from Hartford. Then, I spent the next hour doing things I had never done in my entire life. And not in a good way either. I knew there was a reason I refused to enter the kitchen: it was just too damn much. Even though the book claimed the meals were easy, it was tedious just to get through the preparations.

It was 6:30 when I cleaned my first and last counter and rushed to my room to take a shower. Promptly at 7:00 the doorbell rang and I stumbled to the door, barefoot and clipping an earring onto my left lobe.

The dick was standing at the door looking tall and gorgeous in black trousers and a navy blue T-shirt. And he was holding a single red rose. God, I hated myself then but all my anger and frustrations melted away. In spite of myself, I leaned against the doorframe and grinned. "Who's the rose for?"

"The woman who's feeding me tonight," he grinned back and extended his arm. "Who - might I add - is even lovelier than the flower I hold in my hand."

"Flattery will get you no where with me, Dean." Instead of taking the rose, I stepped back and gestured for him to come in. "Keep your rose until after dinner. Then we'll see what other wonderful things you will say about me."

He laughed and walked in; brushing past me so I could smell the spicy mix of his cologne and soap. Leaning down, he kissed my cheek and his smile was uncharacteristically the epitome of mischievous. "So what are we having?"

"Skillet Chicken," I answered straight-faced. His eyes widened and he studied my face for a second, to see if I was serious. Bastard probably thought I had cooked a five-star meal or something. Then I simply raised an eyebrow and asked, "Is there a problem?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Not a single one. I like chicken."

We settled down to have dinner, both of us completely relaxed. It seemed like the first time in forever that I had enjoyed just talking to a man, without thinking about what we would be doing later. He was so funny and sweet and just so not like any guy I had known or dated before. I was serious about him and we had really only known each other for one week. It was so…scary.

He drained his glass of wine and smiled. "Louise, that was really, really good. I take back whatever I said."

"I believe your exact words were:" I paused for dramatic effect, "I bet the mere thought of actually preparing the food you eat by yourself perplexes you."

"Ouch," he stated and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He picked up the rose from the table and handed it to me. "A peace offering."

Laughing I took the rose and nodded. "You're off the hook, Forester. For now." We smiled at each other across the table before rising to our feet, picking up the plates. He insisted on helping with the dishes, since I cooked and then fifteen minutes later we were back in the living room, the rose still in my hand.

He turned to face me, smiling and unconsciously, I stepped closer and tilted my face to his. He reached out and sunk his hands in my hair and then around the back of my neck. Softly, his lips touched mine and the rose slipped from my hand as I fell into the kiss. My eyes fluttered closed and I waited for him to deepen it, to pull me closer but he just kept teasing me, brushing his lips against mine, feather-light and coaxing, my face still cupped in his hands.

Then he pulled away slightly and demanded. "Kiss me back."

Son of a bitch. I got a little haughty and said, "Kiss me properly and I will."

There was a determined gleam in his eyes that I had never seen before and he yanked me forward, our bodies collided and this time, his mouth came down hard on mine. Surprised, I moaned into the kiss and his hands slid down my back and rested on my butt, pulling me closer.

I had never been kissed like that in my entire life. And I should know a thing or two about kisses. It's stupid and trite and I promised myself I would never ever feel that way about a kiss no matter how hot the guy was or even if I thought that he was _the_ one but he took my breath away.

The kiss grew hotter with each passing second; my hands were his hair and his running up and down my back. I broke the kiss this time and he grinned, a little wolfishly before attacking my neck with his lips as I tried to undo the buttons on his shirt, kissing the newly exposed skin, scraping my teeth across his collarbone and Adam's apple.

"Bedroom," I breathed against his neck, pulling his shirt out of his pants and taking a couple of steps in the general direction of my bedroom. "Back there. Now."

"Floor," he growled, tugging at my dress with one hand, while the other tugged on my arm. "Right here. Now."

And before I knew what was happening, I was somehow on my living room floor with my legs wrapped around Dean's waist, hands roaming, pushing clothes out of the way, tasting and touching skin with our hands and lips and teeth.

His hands grazed up my thighs, pushing my dress over my hips and then they slipped under and over my stomach. I arched into him and moaned his name softly, using my hands to bring his face to mine and kiss him again.

The weight of him, strong and solid, was so reassuring and excitingly dangerous at the same time. It had been a long time since I had felt more than a glimmer of sexual interest in a man. The losers I had been seeing were sorely lacking in that department and I usually ended up throwing them out before satisfying any need. I was more than surprised to find out that it was Dean Forester of all people that awakened all those latent desires. Seeing him again, after all those years, was like a sucker-punch. He was gorgeous when we were sixteen but...now he was just so _intense_.

The attraction was there, right from the get-go and I knew we both felt it. But somehow, for some reason, we had both held back. It was a first for me, to be so attracted to someone and yet keep things simple. Scared the shit out of me.

Dean broke the kiss and pulled away slightly, his hair falling around his eyes and ticking my face. He grinned a little as his hands continued down my sides and under my dress. "Are you okay?"

"Let me see," I returned cheekily, face flushed. "I'm lying in the middle of my living room; on a Persian rug my mother bought on one of her many travels, my dress around my waist and a very sexy man on top of me. Come to think of it, I am feeling a bit uncomfortable…"

He laughed low and husky. "Let's see if I can make it up to you."

This time, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of my neck his stubble tickling the skin and causing delicious shudders to shake my body. His hands pushed upwards, bringing my dress along with them, over my stomach and up around my neck and shoulders. He pulled back and lifted himself off me as I helped him get rid of my dress. Once it was off, he threw it on the sofa and settled between my legs again, kissing me again, hotly.

"Too many clothes," I mumbled against his lips as I worked on the buttons of his shirt, hands fumbling because I was shaking with lust and something akin to fear. "Would you mind if I just ripped it? I'll buy you another one."

He laughed against my skin and took over, quickly undoing the buttons and tossing his shirt in the direction of my dress. "Better?"

"Much," I answered, appreciatively as my hands ran up over his smooth back, feeling the muscles twitch under my hands. He laughed, his eyes locked on mine and I sighed. "I've wanted this since you bumped into me three weeks ago."

"I believe _you_ bumped into _me_," he corrected and then added, sincerely, "I have too."

I smiled and he lowered his mouth to mine for a soft, sweet kiss. With each passing second, the kiss got hotter, and it felt like my skin was on fire. My hands dug into his hair and my legs twined with his as I tried to bring him closer, my mind clear of everything except the feelings and sensations that were running through me.

His hands came between us and deftly undid the clasp of my bra before closing over my breast, tweaking the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. I arched into him, moaning his name and kissing his neck, scarping my teeth along his collarbone when he pinched down particularly hard. My hands left his hair and slid to his pants, working with the belt buckle of his trousers. This time, my fingers listened to my brain and we sat up to quickly divest him of his clothes. I shrugged out of my bra and he took off his pants and boxers.

Grinning, I hooked my arm around his neck and settled on his lap, feeling his need through the damp material of my panties. "Well, _hello_."

He looked up, his eyes darkened with lust and smirk playing on his lips. "I knew you would want to be on top."

Bringing my hands to cup his face I brought my lips close to his and whispered, "Anywhere, as long as you're inside me."

As our lips met again, in a crushing, feverish kiss, our hands explored skin, scratching and smoothing, leaving goose bumps and bruises in their wake as the temperature in the room shot up. We stayed like that, kissing and touching, before he shifted and pushed me back again so that I was lying on the floor in my original position. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of my panties before pushing them down to pool at my legs. Quickly I kicked them off.

My blood was humming with anticipation and my brain had gone pleasantly numb. I expected him to settle between my legs but instead, he grabbed my legs and brought them around his waist, as he leaned on the balls of his feet. Curious, I cocked an eyebrow but he simply smirked back and then, with his eyes fixed on mine and a devilish glint in his eyes, his hands slowly traveled up my thighs before slipping under my butt. He lifted the lower half of my body off the floor, as my back arched slightly.

Before I could even register what he was going to do, he thrust inside me causing me to yelp and grab onto his forearms in shock. Then moan as he filled me completely. And as I was adjusting to the heat running through me and the pleasure that seemed to slowly seep into my bones, he started to move slowly, setting the pace as he pleased and leaving me breathless to catch up. I arched back and then up and his hands came around to the small of my back, to support me.

Pleasure-filled moments, that felt longer than they were, passed too quickly and we rode out our climaxes together, whispering each other's names. He collapsed on top of me, both of us trying to catch our breaths, under the spell of boneless pleasure and satisfaction.

A few minutes later, I shifted under him and let out a curse. "Damn it."

His voice sounded worried but he didn't move off me and continued to twirl my hair lazily around his finger. "What?"

"I forgot the dessert. I left the Jell-O in the freezer."

He laughed into my shoulder and then kissed it. "Louise, I think we just had dessert."

-&-

Louise leaned back and crossed her legs at the ankles, watching her friend's faces in amusement. "And that, my darlings, was only the first time we did it that night. The Jell-O came in handy much later."

"Resourceful," Paris commented as the other women burst out into giggles. "I must say, I had never really seen Dean in that light…"

Lane nodded and then smirked, "_Dean-o_."

Madeline sighed. "Good, old, dependable Dean? Please. It's always the good ones."

Rory took a sip of soda before raising the glass to toast Louise. "Well, Lou, I have to say…that was very hot. The Dean Forester I knew…let's just say, he's grown up just fine."

Louise laughed. "Sweetheart, you don't know the half of it."

"I'm going to crack open a window in here," Lane announced as she ambled over to let in some cool air. "All this sex talk is seriously making me sweaty."

"We're not done yet," Paris reminded everyone, shooting Rory a glance. "Gilmore still has to share."

Madeline clapped her hands in anticipation. "Yes! I cannot wait. All those rumors about Tristan…I never could confirm them and then he was booted off to military school."

"Yes," Louise purred as Rory blushed deeply. "How much of the good old Chilton rumor mill is fact and how much is fiction?"

Rory rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I am not going to answer those burning questions, guys. Mainly because it's in the past and for crying out loud, he's my fiancé!"

"Yes, it's really insensitive." Paris nodded, patting Rory on the shoulder. A beat and then she asked, "What about girth?"

The brunette's eyes widened in shock as Lane, Louise and Madeline burst into hysterics. "Paris Gellar Mariano! I cannot believe you asked me that."

"Oh don't look so scandalized, Ror," Lane chided. "It's a fair question."

"Come on, spill," Louise urged. "All we know is what we heard more than ten years ago. And they were rumors. Set us straight. Were the rumors…_exaggerated_?"

Rory closed her eyes and shook her head, imagining the smirk on Tristan's lips if he could hear the conversation. She sighed and then said, "Not really. The rumors you heard about his well, you know, are very true."

The women giggled and then Madeline said, "Alright, let her tell the story. Go on, Ror."

"Okay. It was about a month ago and I was in our apartment in New York. Tristan was returning from Hartford that night and I tired to stay up for him but I fell asleep watching Conan. Anyway, in the middle of the night…"


	6. Rory & Tristan: Caramel

Disclaimer: One day I plan to rule the world but for now the characters all belong to the Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own Suzanne Vega's _Caramel_ or Barry White's _Just Can't Get Enough Of Your Love_.

Rating: R - It's gonna get heated. It won't go to NC-17 but you've been warned.

Pairings: Madeline/Brad, Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, Louise/Dean & Rory/Tristan

Dedication: Everyone who begged for Trory smut above all else.

Author's Rambling's: I am sorry it took this long. This part got neglected so many times it has developed a complex but I have a life. Deal with it.

**Rory & Tristan: Caramel**

_It won't do/to dream of caramel/to think of cinnamon/and long for you/It won't do/to stir a deep desire/fan a hidden fire/that can never burn true._

Suzanne Vega, "Caramel"

It was about a month ago and I was in our apartment in New York. Tristan was returning from Hartford that night and I tried to stay up for him but I fell asleep watching Conan. Anyway, in the middle of the night, at about three, I woke up again, starving. My dinner had been light and hours ago. I turned to see Tristan sleeping next to me and leaned over to kiss his cheek. I watched him for a couple of minutes, completely content. Living with him, although trying at times, was the happiest I had ever been and I still felt the need to pinch myself to make sure it was real.

My stomach reminded me that it needed food and I quietly tip-toed out of the room and headed for the kitchen. I rolled my eyes when I saw that the TV in the living room was on and mute, Tristan had a habit of leaving it on after he got tired of flipping channels. I found the remote and stubbed my toe against the coffee table in the dark, cursing quietly so I didn't wake him.

Finally, limping slightly, I made it to the kitchen and went to refrigerator. There was a carton of leftover kung-pao chicken and noodles, an almost empty milk jug and two slices of bread. Sighing, I made a mental note to go grocery shopping. Thank God it was a Sunday.

As I was about to reach for the leftover Chinese, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around me from behind. I turned my head and smiled at my boyfriend, tousled hair, shirtless and sleepy, who leaned down and kissed me, long and firm. "Hey you."

"Hey yourself. Sorry," I apologized a little breathlessly and leaned against him as he kissed my bare shoulder. The stubble on his chin tickled me as he nuzzled closer. "I didn't mean to wake you. I didn't hear you come in, either. How was Hartford?"

"The same as when I left it. Grandfather's doing better," he responded his voice still raspy with sleep, and he rested his chin on my shoulder and peering into the fridge, frowning slightly. "Looks like we need to go grocery shopping. Do you suppose it says something about us, that we don't have anything to eat in our fridge but our freezer is loaded with Haagen-Dazs?"

"Yes," I answered with a chuckle as he opened the freezer, pulling out a pint of pralines 'n cream while I reached for the chocolate. On a whim, I pulled out the can of whipped cream as well. "It means we're ice-cream snobs."

"Ah well, there are far worse things to be." Tristan handed me a spoon and I jumped up onto the counter, legs dangling as I reached behind me to get the chocolate sauce, caramel and sprinkles. "We're going to rot our teeth."

"Probably," I replied and dug my spoon into the pint.

"And if we don't start eating healthy, we're going to die."

I offered him my spoon and smiled teasingly, "Oh but what a way to go."

With his eyes on mine, he leaned forward to take the ice-cream into his mouth. "Mm, my favorite."

"Liar," I retorted and pointed to the pint in his hand.

He smirked, stepping forward. "Well, you know what they say about chocolate."

I giggled and dug out some more chocolate with my spoon. "Mm, yes, I do. Although, I'm not sure if that's ever been proven." I held out the spoon in front of his face again and shrugged. "You know, scientifically."

He put his pint of ice cream down and his hands clamped down on the counter on either side of me as he leaned forward to take the ice-cream, swallowed and grinned. Taking the spoon out of my hand, he scooped up some more and brought it close to my lips. "We could make it an experiment."

"Good idea." Eyes on his, I found amusement tinged with lust reflected back as I opened my mouth and ate the ice-cream. Before I could get all of it off the spoon, he moved it away and the rest of the chocolate fell onto my forearm, resting innocently on my lap. I gasped a little at the cold sensation even as my eyes narrowed at the devilish look in his eyes.

"Oops, how clumsy of me." Grinning he lifted my arm and brought it to his mouth, gently sucking the ice cream off my skin, his tongue darting out to tease. Straightening, he licked his lips. "Mm, yes, definitely my favorite."

I laughed and reached for the bottle of chocolate sauce and poured a drop of it on to my finger. Slowly, I licked it off my finger, watching as his eyes followed my tongue, his eyes darkening. "I don't think it really has to be chocolate that's an aphrodisiac when it comes to you, Tristan."

"Nope," he returned and I poured some more chocolate on my finger. This time, before I could tease him again, he grabbed my hand, smirked and leaned in to lick my chocolate covered finger. Very thoroughly. "Just as long as it's you, I'm good to go." He licked the chocolate off my finger and then took the bottle of sauce and mimicked me. But instead of offering me the chocolate, he smeared against my lips. Before I could clean it off, he leaned in to do the job himself.

"Greedy," I mumbled against his lips. "Didn't your mother teach you to share, DuGrey?"

His answer was lost as he deepened the kiss. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer so that he was standing in the V between my legs, up against the counter. He ran his hands up my thighs and then around to my butt before up and under my tank top to trace smooth circles on the small of my back. I sighed against him letting myself fall into the familiarly intoxicating spell.

"The ice cream'll melt," I whispered after he broke the kiss and nuzzled my neck, his hands pulling the hem of my tank top up. I lifted my arms to help him take it off, shuddering slightly as the cool air hit my heated flesh.

"Mm," he answered and I closed my eyes and let out a soft moan as he brought his hands over my ribcage before cupping my breasts. "I'm suddenly in the mood for something else altogether."

I let my hands slide up his back as he continued to kiss my neck. "We have leftover Chinese in the fridge."

He pulled back and reached behind me to grab the bottle of caramel. "Something much sweeter than that."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he planned on doing with the caramel he squirted on two fingers. Before I could even make a guess, he trailed the sticky fingers down my right breast, smearing the caramel against my skin. I gasped in surprise first and then again as he bent his head, his mouth closed over the nipple and his tongue swirled and lapped it all up. "Tristan…"

While his mouth worked its magic on one breast, he continued to tease the other, tweaking the nipple between thumb and forefinger; something he knew drove me completely crazy. I grabbed the side of his face and he lifted it, knowing I wanted to be kissed. I tasted the erotic flavor of caramel and _me_ on his tongue and pulled him closer, hungrily.

"Now who's being greedy?" he taunted as he pulled back slightly. He lifted the bottle of caramel and shook it in front of me. "If you wanted something sweet, Rory, all you had to do is ask."

Sex with Tristan was always interesting, always fulfilling and we had let our taste run towards the kinky side on a handful of occasions. Tristan was the first man I was completely able to trust and share my most intimate, darkest desires. He was the first man that ever made me feel one hundred percent comfortable in my own skin, with my body and my sexuality.

So, without hesitating, I took the bottle out of his hand and instead of squeezing the caramel onto my fingers, I poured it on his chest, right from the bottle. He smirked back at me as I hungrily watched the caramel slowly drip over his skin, tiny rivulets slowly sliding down the muscles of his chest. I leaned down and traced them with the tip of my tongue. He groaned, his fingers fisting in my hair as I deliberately let my teeth scrape over the nipple, catching all the caramel in my mouth, my lips and tongue trailing over the sticky mess.

"Rory," he moaned, a little breathless, as my lips journeyed upwards, to trace over his collarbone and suck at the junction of his jaw line, right above his hammering pulse. My hands trailed down his chest, fingers curving the muscles of his abs before trailing under the waistband of his sweats to wrap around his length. Struggling for breath, he managed to choke out, "Oh _God_."

"Did you miss me, Tristan?" I asked huskily, my lips brushing against his and my teeth nibbling on his lower lip as I continued to torture him. "Because I _really_ missed you."

"Rory," he breathed, his fingers tangling in my hair and digging into my scalp. "Yes…Jesus…you need to…"

I let him go; pulling away from him and then looking at him through lowered lashes adopted my most innocent expression. "Stop? Do you want me to stop?"

He let out a mix between a groan and a laugh. He took my face in his hands and kissed the side of my face. "God _no_. But if you keep this up, knowing it drives me crazy, this will end way too soon and I've been dreaming about this moment for an entire week."

"Mm," I whispered as he his kissed a trail up my neck. "Denied sex for a week: how ever did you manage?"

"It was torture," he replied and I heard him fumbling for something behind me. "You know what I thought of doing when I got back?"

"What's that?"

I heard a familiar whizzing sound and before I could react, he sprayed whipped cream over my mouth, my cheeks and the tip of my nose. I gasped and he laughed, holding my hands down on the counter when I tried to wipe the cream off my face.

"Aw baby, you got something on your face," he teased and bent his head. "Let me help you clean it up."

He started with my nose, licking the small blob off before letting his mouth travels to the rest of my face, slowly and thoroughly getting all the whipped cream off. Then his lips landed on my mouth, kissing me softly, sensually, before parting my lips with his tongue and letting the whipped cream into my mouth.

It was by far the most erotic kiss we had ever shared.

The kiss deepened, got hotter and Tristan let go of my captive hands so that I could push the waistband of his sweats over his hips as he frantically worked to help me get rid of my pajama bottoms. Once we had divested each other of our remaining clothing, his hands grasped my hips and my legs came around his waist.

Lips still locked, he lifted me off the counter and entered me in one smooth thrust. I gasped against his mouth, breaking the kiss. "Tristan…"

We stumbled backwards until my back hit the fridge door. I didn't even feel the contrast of temperature on my skin, I was already on fire. My fingers grasped his shoulders as he supported me between him and the fridge, our eyes locked together.

"Rory, Rory, Rory," he chanted, his hips thrusting in sync with mine. He bent his head and brought his mouth to my breast, biting down softly.

I cried out his name again as I came and his fingernails dug into my hips as he followed. As our breathing returned to normal, we stayed like that against the fridge unable to move even if we wanted to. He lifted his head up and managed a weak smile.

"I should go away more often if this is the welcome home I get."

"I agree." I replied, running my hand through his slightly damp hair. "I missed you."

He smiled and kissed me. "Missed you more."

& -

Flushing red, Rory finished her story, "Of course, after that we were all sticky and had to shower. Let's just say it was already way past sunrise when we finally fell asleep again. It was a _very_ good Sunday."

Louise grinned. "I'll bet. That was a very hot story, Gilmore. A +."

"The stories in high school pale in comparison to that," Madeline added beaming. "And to think there was a time I thought you were a bit of a prude. No offense."

Rory laughed and reached for her soda. "None taken."

Paris was still having trouble getting the mental image out of her head as she stretched. "That was pretty kinky. Although, I can't say I'm surprised."

"Me neither," Lane agreed and then frowned. "You know, they're going to know. The guys I mean. I think they'll know like a sixth sense or something."

"Not if what we talked about never leaves this room," Rory reminded them urgently.

Her friends nodded enthusiastically.

"Agreed," Lane stated and then burrowed her face in her hands. "I don't know how I will look at them in the eye ever again without blushing and blubbering."

"Are you kidding me?" Madeline asked, stretching her legs and crossing her ankles. "I personally don't think they'd suspect. They'd just think it was that time of month or something."

"It's their assumption for everything," Louise said.

"I don't know," Paris answered with a shrug. "They have ways of finding out."

"Not if we keep our mouths shut," Rory said forcefully. "They need never know. My God, if Tristan ever found out…I'd never hear the end of it."

"Jess wouldn't say anything but he'd smirk, that stupid silly smirk her gets when he thinks he's one-upped me or something," Paris added darkly.

"Brad would never want to visit again." Madeline said and Lane agreed with her.

"Dean wouldn't care. I have nothing to worry about it," Louise shrugged. Rory scowled and hit her with a cushion. "Hey!"

"Pillow fight!" Madeline announced, grabbing her pillow and plowing Lane with it.

"Oh, that's it!" Lane yelled and attacked. Chaos ensued as pillows flew and giggles erupted.

Paris tried to dodge the pillows. "I'm pregnant here, people!"

A cushion hit her squarely in the face.

_To be continued…there is an epilogue left! _


	7. Boys Will Be Boys

**Disclaimer**: Don't own a damn thing. The characters all belong to the Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. I do not own Cyndi Lauper's _Boys Will Be Boys_ or Barry White's _Just Can't Get Enough Of_ _Your Love_.

**Rating**: R - It's gonna get heated. It won't go to NC-17 but you've been warned.

**Pairings**: Madeline/Brad, Paris/Jess, Lane/Dave, Louise/Dean, Rory/Tristan.

**Dedication**: To all the people who read and reviewed.

**Author's Rambling's**: So this shouldn't have taken this long but it did because I suck, I know. Oh well, here it is. I'm just glad it's over.

**Epilogue: Boys Will Be Boys**

_Well don't you know that boys will be boys/and I could never live my life without you_.

- Cyndi Lauper, "Boys Will Be Boys"

When Rory woke up the next morning, she heard the sounds of clattering metal and an inventive stream of cursing coming from the general direction of her kitchen. Without bothering to put on her robe, she headed for the kitchen, stepping over Lane, sleeping snuggly in her sleeping bag on the floor of the living room.

She found Dave Rygalski holding an amusing _discussion_ with himself.

"So do they answer back?" she commented and he whirled around as she clarified, "The voices in your head?"

"Occasionally," he answered with a wide grin. "Usually, they fear my wrath."

"Oh, I'm sure," she answered and yawned. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Before he could answer, the back door swung open and Tristan DuGrey and Dean Forrester entered, with a large box in both of their hands, the _Luke's_ insignia written clearly on top. Rory listened, amused, as they bickered about something or the other and then grinned when her fiancé spotted her.

"Morning beautiful," he said as he came over to kiss her. "You look all partied out."

"Hey you," she answered playfully and kissed him back. "What are you guys doing here, this was supposed to be girl's only; no men allowed."

"Technically," Dean replied as he placed his box on the counter, "it's morning so girl's night in is officially over. We thought we'd crash."

"Those are not the rules," Rory stated with her hands on her hips. "This is a sacred ritual, men are strictly not allowed."

Dave lifted a donut out of one of the boxes. "But we brought breakfast. Including coffee."

"Oh well, then you can stay."

"You're so easy, Gilmore," Louise announced as she entered the kitchen and made her way to her husband. Tristan snickered and Rory slapped him on the arm. "Just admit you people couldn't stay away."

"No one can resist your feminine wiles, Lou," Jess added coming in from the back entrance, loaded with cups of coffee.

"And her cooking too," Rory remarked, shooting a sly look at her friend who glared mockingly. "Isn't that right Dean?"

Dean furrowed his brows, glancing between his wife and his ex-girlfriend. "Yeah, she's a good cook."

"Hey," Madeline said as she entered, yawning, Lane in tow. She went over to Dave and gave him a hug, much to his surprise and Lane's chagrin, who tired to push her away. "Dave, you're awesome. Keep it up."

"Dirty!" Rory stated.

The women giggled and the men looked on, bewildered.

"Is this some private, female joke we're not supposed to get?" Jess asked, as he slowly approached his wife who had entered, looking disconcerted at seeing everyone there. Cautiously, he reached for her. "Morning, Par."

Despite the fact that she was mortified that Dean, Dave and Tristan were seeing her in her old grey nightgown and her hair messed up beyond belief, she managed to smile at her husband and settle in his arms. "Hey. Though it would be a better morning if I got a chance to shower first."

"So Jess could join you?" Lane suggested with a wink.

Again the girls burst into giggles and the men stared, clueless.

"Hey, wait," Madeline said suddenly after her giggles subsided, "where's my boyfriend?"

Tristan rolled his eyes. "He probably got lost. I reminded him about Monty but you know Langford."

"Oh, we definitely know all about Langford," Paris answered giving Madeline and secret smile.

Everyone murmured their agreement and began to tackle the breakfast Dave was laying out on the table. Ten minutes later, Brad rushed in, red from exertion and apologetic.

"Hey guys, sorry. I forgot about Monty."

Everyone laughed and Madeline soothed him, "Aw, don't worry babe. It's a stupid rooster."

"Hey!" Rory protested.

"Hush, Gilmore, it is stupid," Paris sniped.

"I'm making pancakes!" Lane announced, playing peacemaker. "Who wants some?"

"I want chocolate chips!"

"Blueberry for me and the wife."

"Did you use soy milk? I can't eat dairy, Lane," Paris reminded her harshly.

"When did I become the designated cook?"

"I'll help," Tristan offered graciously.

"And you'll want caramel sauce, chocolate sauce and whipped cream on yours, won't you, Tristan?" Louise asked slyly, getting back at Rory for her earlier remark.

"Ixnay on the secret-ay!" The brunette replied, urgently, as the girls laughed again. Tristan was way too sharp and he'd pick up on it instantly.

Unfortunately, she was too late. Tristan's eyes narrowed in her direction, "What did you tell them, Gilmore?"

"Nothing," Rory answered innocently. _Crap_, she thought inwardly.

Tristan looked at the males present. "Something's up guys."

Jess nodded. "Yeah, looks like it."

"They are acting very odd," Dave remarked. "What gives?"

"Nothing at all," Lane replied. "We're just on sugar highs, don't mind us."

"No," Tristan said with a determined gleam in his eyes. He caught Rory's upper arm. "Babe, did you tell them?"

"Tell them what?" Rory thought playing dumb was the best thing to do.

Tristan searched her face and then broke out into a wide grin. "Oh yeah, you told them didn't you. Bragging, were you?"

"Shut up, Tristan," Rory said.

"What's going on?" Brad asked confused.

"The women have been swapping sex stories," Tristan announced as he turned to the rest of his friends. "Guess we solved the mystery of a slumber party, guys. The womenfolk gather together and shared dirty, dirty sex stories."

Dean's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Louise and blurted accusingly, "You told them about our first time!"

The girls started to laugh and Jess turned on Paris, grinning smugly, the earlier 'shower' remark finally setting in. "And you told them how we conceived junior over here, didn't you?"

"Whatever," Paris replied though she was blushing.

Dave looked at his wife incredulously. "What did you tell them about us?"

"Just about a fight," Louise answered innocently. "And how much Thanksgiving means to you."

Brad was beetroot red, unused to the easy openness that the rest of the group shared. "Maddie, please tell me you didn't."

"Aw honey," the raven-haired woman replied. "I made you very popular."

Rory put a reassuring arm around Brad. "Believe me, Brad. We were impressed."

"Oh God," he muttered and turned away, stuffing his mouth with a donut.

"So," Tristan said as he stared challengingly at his fiancé. "Who got the prize?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did someone's story beat the rest?"

Paris snorted and then rolled her eyes. "Leave it to you, DuGrey, to make it into a competition."

"But he asks a good question," Dean butted in, much to everyone's surprise. "One of you had to have had the better story."

"Tell you what," Louise suggested, eyes narrowing, "I'll get a measuring tape and you men can go outside and decide the winner for yourselves. Seriously."

"Seriously," the women echoed, glaring.

"Hey," Dave said defensively. "It's a fair question."

"No it isn't," Lane retorted. "It was something secret that we shared with our closest friends and it will remain that way. It was special; we won't have you tainting it by making this a manly-whose-penis-is-bigger-and-better contest."

"Well put, Doc," Madeline said.

"Except that you people," Jess said pointing in the general direction of his wife, "shared it with us and therefore we're as much a part of this as you are. After all, you didn't ask us if we appreciate the fact that you're discussing our - what we thought was private - sex life with your friends. No matter how close you are. Besides, Brad is new here. You'll scare him off."

"Right on, Mariano," Dean said, slapping him on the back.

Cornered, Rory turned to the only tactic she knew. Innocence. "You're right."

"We are?" Tristan asked dubiously.

"Yup," she answered as she sat down and delicately bit into her donut. She chewed, swallowed and then continued, "The only fair thing to do is let you people in on what stories were told here last night."

"Really?" Dave asked.

"Yeah, Gilmore, really?" Louise added.

"Absolutely."

"Jesus Christ," Brad muttered, turning red at the prospect of having his prowess made public. Again.

"But since we've already shared with our friends, and we really hate repeating ourselves, and since, as Jess pointed out, you were as much as a part of them as we were…" Rory clarified with a small smile, "feel free to fill each other in."

The men looked at each other, letting the meaning sink in.

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," Dave said suddenly and busied himself with making pancakes.

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, me too."

Jess and Brad nodded and looked keenly at their breakfast, avoiding the women's gazes and admitting defeat.

Paris leaned into Rory and grinned. "Typical, ask them to share feelings and they clam up like a bunch of wusses."

Tristan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her while everyone else chattered away about other topics. "Well played, Gilmore."

Rory preened. "Thank you."

He lowered his voice and whispered, "But seriously, I won didn't I?"

Turning fully, she twined her arms around his neck and whispered back, "Hands down."

As he brought his mouth down to hers for a kiss, their friends voice their objections loudly, throwing empty coffee cups and wrappers at the couple.

"Get a room."

"I'm gonna puke!"

"It's too early for this, DuGrey," Jess shouted.

Tristan lifted his head and smiled. "Hey, will you just look at my beautiful bride-to-be? I just can't get enough."

**The End**

**Author's Note:** I'd like to thank the wonderful people at the Academy…No, okay, I'd just like to thank everyone who read this and is sticking with me and my stories. Means a lot. I have a Livejournal page/blog whatever where I will post snippets of upcoming fics and WIPs and whatnot to tide you over until I can get something new up. Please visit my homepage here and you'll find the link. And let me know what you think


End file.
